


Little Cat

by Zhenta



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 01:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18928903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhenta/pseuds/Zhenta
Summary: Baldur's Gate Gift Exchange 2019:Dorn discovers a cunningly disguised demon in the Copper Coronet but his so-called allies are proving unhelpful.





	Little Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvandraTheMarySueSlayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvandraTheMarySueSlayer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Strangeness and Charm - Shadows of Amn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14658443) by [AvandraTheMarySueSlayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvandraTheMarySueSlayer/pseuds/AvandraTheMarySueSlayer). 



How was it possible that so much time had passed between Caelar’s crusade and Cat’s party taking up residence in Athkatla’s Copper Coronet? Edwin had tried to forget, he really had. Yet the silver haired drow had a nasty habit of slipping back into his mind as subtly as he used to slip into his bedroll. Baeloth was a snake, but he was such a pretty snake. Even prettier with his head thrown back in pleasure, Edwin’s cum dripping from his hair.

The wizard raised his free hand to stroke his own chest the way the entertainer once did, but it was not the same. Nor was his own hand any substitute for the other man’s mouth and yet the memory replayed unwelcomely in his head. Were Baeloth here his hand would not be stroking himself, but rather curling his fingers through the drow’s hair. He sped up, picturing Baeloth’s willowy and perfect frame. His breath quickened to a pant and he gritted his teeth, when suddenly there was an almighty bang and his privacy was rudely disturbed.

“WIZARD! DROP YOUR COCK- I HAVE NEED OF YOU!”

The door slammed open so hard that it slipped off its hinge. So powerful was the gust of wind that the force created, that it blew his scrolls from the table and sent them flying around the room. With a yelp of horror, Edwin yanked the bedsheets up over himself, though there was no disguising the interrupted activity. His manhood wilted at the sight and stench of the half-orc, his dark hair lashed back and yellowing tusks gleaming.

“Get out!” howled Edwin.

Dorn il-Khan ignored him and ducked into the room, utterly unabashed. He had to bend down and twist sideways to squeeze through a doorway which was not built for a man of his bulk.

The Blackguard was carrying something in his enormous grey fist. Something small, fluffy and angrier even than Edwin, which at this moment was saying something. It bared its tiny, mean fangs at Edwin and hissed. Dorn was carrying it by the scruff of the neck but it writhed and twisted trying to scratch him.

“Cast dispel magic on this _thing,_ Edwin!” demanded Dorn. “I have entrapped a polymorphed demon. Reveal it for what it is!”

“Why must our glorious leader encourage such filthy animals to live among us?” muttered Edwin furiously, struggling to his feet and tugging his robes straight. He was not referring to the cats. Dorn placed the hissing feline on Edwin’s bed, keeping a tight grip on the scruff of her neck.

She was a fat, green-eyed tabby with a shredded ear and a mangy bald spot on her flank. Half her tail had been lost to a fight or accident in the distant past. She opened her mouth at them and let out a series of growling hisses, pinning back her ears to resemble an adder.

Malevolent though the glossy-coated creature undoubtedly was, Edwin was fairly certain that it was just an ordinary cat. Nevertheless, with much complaining, the Red Wizard dispelled magic over her. Unsurprisingly, it had no effect.

“What makes you think this animal is planar in nature?” mused the wizard, adding under his breath, “If one could describe what goes on in the half-orc’s meaty skull as ‘thinking.’”

“This thing, whatever it is, has hostile intentions toward me,” declared Dorn, pointing an accusing finger at the cat. “She has… marked my armour and my sword.” He did not dare bring his suspicions about the fluffy monster before her namesake, and their party leader, Cat. Not without proof. Cat was inexplicably enamoured with these cunning little creatures and had filled their base of operations, the Copper Coronet, with half the strays in Athkatla.

Edwin gingerly held out his hand to the animal’s nose. She sniffed the Thayan disdainfully, gave him an experimental lick and finally allowed him to pet her grizzled head. All the while keeping her green eyes narrowed on Dorn.

“Anything more concrete?” sighed Edwin, rolling his eyes when he was sure that Dorn was not looking.

“She has slaughtered a legion of innocents,” replied Dorn darkly, “Butchered them in a most sadistic manner and strewn their remains all over my possessions. I found a severed head in my boot.”

Edwin squinted at the half-orc and trembled with rage. “Tell me that this blundering rhinoceros did not break down my door merely to tell me that a common feline brought him a few dead mice.”

“More than a few! And rats!” Dorn growled. “And fowl of many species. For her diminutive size, the orgy of slaughter that she has orchestrated these past days suggests a bloodlust to rival even my own!”

“Yes Dorn,” sighed Edwin, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It is a cat. This is what cats do. How long must I endure this cesspit of imbeciles?”

“You do not understand. This cat is different!” insisted Dorn. “She does not consume her victims. She hunts not for food but for the sheer pleasure of murder. She is a ruthless, pitiless psychopath!”

“Yes…” agreed Edwin patiently. “ _It is a cat_.”

“Your magics have been of no help,” Dorn reprimanded him sternly. “Come wizard, we will consult our cleric instead.”

He strode out of Edwin’s bedroom. Behind him a red-orange glow began to flicker in the furious and humiliated wizard’s hands. With a great effort of will, the Thayan suppressed the magical expression of his fury. Dorn treated him this disrespectfully when their leader, Cat, was not around because he could. He was stronger, faster and had the aid of a demonic patron. Edwin’s powers might be a match for him but only if he had a few uninterrupted hours to prepare first. And caught the half-orc off-guard. A spontaneous fireball, hurled in anger, would spell his own demise when the Blackguard retaliated.

“Steals my food…” Dorn was muttering furiously, “Knocked my ale onto the floor with her nose for no reason… scratched up my boots with her foul claws…”

They found Viconia lurking in the cellar with Hexxat. The vampire had taken up residence in a makeshift den made from empty beer kegs. It was cold and wholly devoid of natural light but comfortable for its undead occupant. The vampire had draped it with bright silks and purple velvet pillows, more for her frequent visitor’s benefit than her own. Viconia was sprawled over them now, while the other woman ran her cool fingers in circles over her bare back. The advantage of an undead lover was near unlimited stamina, and centuries in Dragomir’s tomb had left Hexxat almost immune to boredom. She had been soothing the tension from the cleric’s muscles for an hour solid and could carry on all night if necessary.

The drow had other plans, however, and rolled over lazily, pulling the silks with her. Hexxat, who was not bothered by the cold, lay down beside her. Viconia stroked a hand along her flank, around the curve of her hip and…

Sat up abruptly. Dorn stomped into their den, leaving a huge muddy boot print on Hexxat’s costly satin rug. Viconia bit her teeth together, her chest swelling with rage. Back home in Menzoberranzan, drow would suffer the tentacle rods for less insolence.

“If you value your life, male, your excuse for interrupting us in this manner had better be phenomenally good!” hissed Viconia. She hastily wrapped an emerald silken drape around her body and scrambled to her feet.

“Oh, _it is_!” sneered Edwin, who unlike Dorn had wisely remained outside of Hexxat’s beer-barrel den. “We are most fortunate to have this unpolished genius in our midst! With his unparalleled wit and perception, he has uncovered a cunningly disguised demon. He spotted it lurking in the tavern and captured it before it devoured all of our souls.”

“A demon?” asked Hexxat sharply.

Dorn dropped the tabby in front of her onto an embroidered velvet cushion. The animal blinked at it indignantly, then extended her claws and began to knead. With each press of her paws, her claws snagged and lifted a thread of the beautiful hand stitched pattern, ripping them out one by one. Hexxat crossed her arms, still unclothed. Unlike Edwin, she was more than a match for the half-orc, and she was strongly considering making good on her lover’s threat.

“I accept that I was mistaken,” Dorn admitted testily. “Clearly it is not a polymorphed demon after all.”

“Then why are you here?” asked Viconia in a slow, dangerous purr.

“Now he thinks that the animal is merely possessed,” groaned Edwin wearily.

“You may mock,” snarled Dorn. “But she has tried on numerous occasions to break my neck by tripping me at the top of the stairs! Last night while I slept, the cold-blooded beast attempted to suffocate me by sleeping on my face. When her direct attempts to murder me failed, she tried to weaken me by disturbing my rest! Mewling relentlessly to be let into my room!”

“Oh _no!_ ” exclaimed Viconia sarcastically.

“But then,” Dorn went on, “When I let her in and returned to my bed, she started howling to be let out again! She sings with an unearthly wail, worthy of the fiercest banshee.”

“Yes, our Cat keeps a lot of little cats,” replied Viconia, her red eyes flashing. “They are most annoying. Not unlike _certain other feral animals_ our leader insists on keeping around. What is your point?”

“This ‘little cat’ intentionally tries to break the bond between myself and Cat,” Dorn told the women in a low voice. “I had purchased gifts for her of a personal nature. The cat… it… pissed on them!”

The Blackguard sounded so sincerely outraged that Viconia had to suppress a smile.

“Did you do that Little Cat?” crooned Hexxat, scratching between the tabby’s furry ears. It vibrated with pleasure. The vampire smiled at it, showing fangs not unlike the kitty’s own.  “Do you have any other reason for imagining this sweet little madam to be possessed?”

“It stares at me,” said Dorn stiffly.

“The felonious feline is probably fascinated by the frenzy of foolishness you exhibit,” alliterated Edwin, whose mind was still half on Baeloth.

“Ok down you go, Little Cat,” smiled Hexxat indulgently, as the animal began making scrambling motions. For such a rotund creature, it darted between Dorn’s hands and legs with surprising speed, and pelted back up the stairs. The women watched it go with indifferent expressions.

“See! It returns to my rooms!” Dorn grunted. “No matter how many gaps I plug, it seems to find a way in. I suspect her demonic patron has granted her the power to walk through walls.”

“It is a cat you lobotomized ape!” hollered Edwin. “Not demonic, not possessed, not imbued with any special abilities. Just a common alley cat!”

“He’s right you know,” agreed Viconia. Hexxat nodded.

Outvoted, and seeing that his so called ‘party’ were of no help, Dorn clumped up the stairs three at a time. Edwin straightened his robes, reclaiming his dignity after his little outburst. It had been a trying evening.

That night Little Cat was the worst she had been so far. Dorn woke to find her wailing and slashing at his face. This was not the same irritating kneading he had grown almost used to, but frantic, vicious swipes. He sat up furiously, his own blood dripping down his cheek and made to grab the creature. Little Cat dodged his meaty fist but continued to screech.

Strangely she seemed to be in no hurry to get away from the livid half-orc. She was trying to hide her portly, furry frame behind him. The two of them got into a bizarre little dance as he spun in circles trying to catch her, until finally he sat with his back against the wall and waited for her, eyes glinting. She padded cautiously toward him and he swatted her away. She tried to approach him again. This time his monstrous boot lashed out and lifted her gently but firmly away. Little Cat landed heavily on all fours, her bloated tummy almost hitting the ground first. Even this did not deter her and she launched herself into his lap.

“By all nine hells, you relentless devil!” growled Dorn exasperatedly. “What do you want with me?”

The plaintive creature wailed piteously and tried to claw her way into his armour. The fact that it was already full of Dorn was no deterrent. He growled with pain and annoyance, seizing the obese, frightened tabby by the scruff of her neck. The Blackguard strode purposefully toward the window, and was about to toss her out of it, when he noticed a shadow flicker out of the corner of his eye.

Slowly, and very carefully, he placed Little Cat on the floor and drew his broadsword. He sniffed the air with his great orcish nostrils but there was no tell-tale stench that accompanied the average gutter-goon. There was no more movement but the rooms of the Copper Coronet were not that large. There were a limited number of places his enemies could hide.

He stabbed his wardrobe and slashed, destroying the door in an explosion of splinters. An unearthly wail and a large cloud of gas emerged from between his ruined shirts. At the same moment two vampires emerged, one from behind a dresser, the other from under his bed. They wrestled his arms but these were mere drones, not long-undead with powers like Hexxat’s. Dorn launched himself backward, crushing one against the opposite wall with his body, just as its teeth were about to pierce his forearm.

The other ran at him, undead eyes blazing and mouth contorted in a hideous battle cry. His white-blonde hair was soon splattered with blood as Dorn’s blade severed his arm. The creature faltered, unable to bear the pain, causing Dorn to sneer. Weak, even in death! He turned and punched the vampire he had pinned against the wall, but he wanted to interrogate her before he sent her back to her coffin. Before she could regain her senses, he pulled her legs up so that they were propped on the edge of the bed and stamped down, hard.

There was a horrible crack and the female vampire’s face contorted in agony under her long black hair. He turned back to the armless male who was sobbing and cringing on the floor. The repulsive coward whimpered and flinched as Dorn raised his sword, and half-severed its head. Like the one in the wardrobe, the vampire reverted to gaseous form and floated out of the window with great haste.

“Hardly worth the bother of fighting,” snarled Dorn. The remaining vampire was made of slightly sterner stuff. Despite his having broken both her legs, she was dragging herself determinedly toward him. Mildly curious to see what she intended to do in her weakened state, the half-orc merely watched her. She slithered over and opened her fanged jaws wide, like a snake about to bite his ankle.

Dorn pulled his foot back at the last moment and her teeth snapped shut over empty air with a click. She glared up at him defiantly, through red-rimmed eyes.

“This is the best your guild can send to face me?” he growled. “Insulting. Surely your leader knew that this feeble rabble would not be enough to destroy us in our own home?”

“We ain’t here to destroy you!” replied the vampire. She was attempting to make herself sound seductive but the effect was rather spoiled by the fact that both knees were bending in the wrong direction. That and her accent was more Athkatla-alley than princess of darkness. ”We’re here to turn you, innit? Bite you in your sleep nice and supple like.”

“You mean subtle?” corrected Dorn.

“Our mistress heard you asked for it once,” she went on cunningly. “It’ll make you strong, right? Did for me. Could do it for you now, couldn’t I? One quick nip, you won’t feel a thing and I won’t even complain about the taste of your body odour. How about it?”

“And once I am one of you, I bring Cat to your mistress and earn her favour…” Dorn mused, pretending to consider it.

“Yes! Yes, exactly!” the vampire nodded eagerly.

Dorn skewered her, ignoring her expression of horrified shock. Then he pettily closed the window and threw his blanket over the door crack so that the gaseous vampire had the indignity of oozing her way out through the mouse-holes. A clumsy, pathetic plan. Cat’s strength and bloodlust had earned his loyalty long ago and their ‘mistress’ was a fool to think that he would turn for her.

He stepped back panting and there was a shriek. He lifted his boot and looked down to see an incensed fuzzy face hissing up at him. He had trodden on Little Cat’s tail. The feline sped between his legs and down the stairs in a scramble of claws.

“Cat!” he bellowed. No response. He stormed about the Copper Coronet in a grouchy temper, respecting nobody’s privacy in the search for the missing feline. “CAT!” A door opened and a bleary eyed sorceress stepped out, but he slammed it shut again in his affronted leader’s face. “Not you! _LITTLE_ CAT!”

After a few hours of shouting for her, disturbing every other occupant of the inn, he was forced to concede defeat. He returned to his room, intending to search the alleys for Little Cat at first light. Just as he was laying down he heard a faint ‘mew’ at the door. He got up hastily, opened it, and to his relief Little Cat streaked past him and squeezed herself under the bed. He peered under and saw her glowing feline eyes glinting out at him. She looked uncomfortable on the hard, splintery floorboards. He picked up his own pillow and tore it in half with his bare hands, sending feathers everywhere. Then he kept half of the ruined pillow for himself and pushed the other half under the bed for the kitty to sleep on.

The next morning Dorn woke with a yawn and a stretch to the sound of more mewling than usual. Spilling more feathers from his bed as he woke, he bent down to check on Little Cat. The tabby was lying stretched out on her side wearing a very smug expression. Nestled into her were half-a-dozen blind, deaf little kittens. He watched them for a moment then clumped down the stairs to the tavern kitchens. After last night the least she deserved was a nice fish for her breakfast. Then he would have a word with the cook. Tonight he planned for his party to share a special meal.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Candlelight flickered around the table in the private dining room. Dorn had gone to much effort for this dinner. He had even gone so far as to provide napkins and spoons rather than slurping direct from the bowl and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Set at each place except Hexxat’s was a steaming bowl of stew. The vampire had a tankard of congealing blood which she was swirling doubtfully.

Edwin was eyeing his stew with some trepidation, but he was reassured somewhat by Dorn scooping up great ladlefulls into his mouth and smacking his lips with relish. An experimental nibble proved that it was not _very_ bad. Certainly he had eaten worse things since his departure from Thay. No, the stew was not bad, but it was definitely strange. It had a very unusual flavour that the Red Wizard struggled to place.

“Oh no,” he whispered. A glance at Viconia told him that she was thinking the same thing. Hexxat too, was gingerly lowering the blood from her lips. “Half-orc, is this some manner of revolting primitive ritual?”

“Speak plainly wizard!” came the reply. Dorn was already annoyed and disappointed that their party leader had declined to join them for this special meal.

“Why are we consuming your corpulent cat?” Edwin asked, disgusted. “By eating her do you hope to absorb her cunning?”

“I understand this male’s desperation to be less stupid,” sneered Viconia, “But why force the rest of us to partake?”

“We are not eating Little Cat!” growled Dorn. He slammed his great fist down on the table, clearly offended. “She is safely under my bed nursing her numerous progeny. Do not mistake me for a savage!”

“Oh. Well I…” Edwin began awkwardly. He exchanged a look with the others, shrugged, and resumed eating. It really wasn’t bad as such, but he could not for the life of him figure out what this distinctive flavour was.

“This stew is made from the presents Little Cat has been sacrificing for me,” said Dorn proudly. “I recognize them now for the tribute that they were. Last night she warned me of a vampire attack. Were it not for her they would have bitten me in my sleep.”

There was a clatter of spoons and glass as his guests dropped their utensils in unified horror.

“Rats?” shrieked Viconia, “You’ve been feeding us _rodents?_ ”

“And birds. The creature and I are allies now,” grinned Dorn. “It would be disrespectful to refuse her gifts.”

“I’ll give you a ‘gift,’ Blackguard!” thundered Hexxat. Edwin and Viconia exchanged glances once more and nodded. Up until now they had exercised a great deal of tolerance for Dorn and his cat-related shenanigans. It had gone too far, however, and they’d all had enough. With one arm, Hexxat overturned the table, sending the offending stew crashing to the ground and advancing on Dorn.

_“Get him!”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Avandra for permission to write in the Cat-verse! Anyone who hasn't read Strangeness and Charm, I highly reccomend. :)


End file.
